She showed up at the door, soaking wet, bruised, and covered in glitter. The two of you just stare at one another, you, more agape than she, who was leaning against the door frame. It doesn't take long to get over the surprise really, she was always finding herself in crazy situations like this, more like she always got lost in them, running away from reality.
The glitter on her long, thick eyelashes sparkled when she broke your stare. "So, can i come in?" She asks, not hiding the ice from within her voice.
You sigh deeply, moving to the side to let her slip on by, leaving a trail of puddles mixed in her wake. You watch as her slimming body limps to your room where you know she'll scavenge for clothes like it all belongs to her. You've known her for years, been there for her always, but a little too much because now she shows up almost every week. But tonight, she looks tired, weak.
"I'll make some tea." You say over the t.v. You know she won't tell you what happened or how she got that limp. It angers you that she just lets it happen, expecting to just come back into your life broken and you to just let it slide. She won't let you help no matter what you do, no matter what you offer, it will never be enough. But you'll keep letting her reel you in, keep letting her do this to you because it's all you can do when you love her this much.
She comes out in one of your shirts and sweatpants, her hair sticking to the nape of her neck and back like glue from the rain. From the counter lights yo can see her more clearly. Her makeup smudged, hair a total mess and hair tossed about like a pair of scissors went all out. She never minded showing this side of her to you, it had been one of the reasons why you fell so hard.
"Take a shower after this." You place the tea in front of her then sit down in the seat by her right, sipping your own tea.
Over the brim of your cup, you watch her, studying that far away look and shaking of her left leg. She doesn't like it when you bring her back, but you do it anyway. Placing a hand in between her shoulder blades, you run your thumb back and forth in gentle circles to bring he back to reality. It's like waking a child after an awful nap.
Her eyes flinch and she tsks her tongue at you but wishes her thanks anyway. You pull your hand back, savouring the feel of her in your clothes. Her small body straightens and her bony hands pick up the warm mug, thumbs moving over the cup, drawing in its heat. Her expression relaxes as she breathes it in, closing her eyes like it's her first time ever smelling peppermint.
"This smell, It reminds me of you." She takes a sip before continuing, letting the sweet liquid roll over her tongue before finally swallowing. "It's comforting."
And like that, she wins. Again making your heart race at her words and actions. You hang your head in defeat, running a hand over your face. You swear, she does it all on purpose, knowing you'll keep falling more and more.
She takes little sips, never letting go of the mug, keeping it close like it radiates life. Years before, you two were teenagers out having fun every weekend, now as adults you have a job and a house but she's till trapped in those days, refusing to grow up. The marks on her inner arm prove so. You've offered a place to stay when her parents kicked her out, but instead she moved in with her addicted boyfriend. The one that leaves bruises in spots no one can see. But you know her too well, or so you thought.
As if she knows what you're thinking, her voice rings out weakly, "we broke up."
You cast a glance at her, making sure she wasn't about to cry. It's hard to tell with her sometimes, whether she was on the brink of sadness or indifference. A part of you is happy, but it soon turns to rage as realization hits. "That limp?" You can hear the anger and poison leaking from your voice.
She doesn't say anything and you don't expect she will. But something inside you wants to keep pushing, to yell you told her so and to ask why. Why did she choose him over you? Why when she knew you could treat her so much better, like a real person, like a women?
You tire of how she does this to you, keeps you in circles. The frustration makes you slam your fist down on the counter, causing the dishes to rattle, her head snaps up in your direction of this new found anger. " Damn it Jess, tell me!" You don't care how mean you sound or the fact it could push her away even further. She knows your feelings yet throws them around, taking advantage of you.
She brings her eyes back to the tea, staring intently into it. Battling with herself no doubt. This gesture breaks you, you can't win this because it would mean she would have to give up part of herself she's not ready for.
Barring your face in your hands, you let out a displeasing groan. You guys just sit there in silence until she's done, taking her time to finish the drink. Waiting to see if you have another outburst.
She stands, taking a leave without saying a word, heading for the shower like you told her to earlier. She'll probably take your bed like all the other times shes come over. You listen to the shower turn on and the rustling of the curtain. You think of all the times you've pulled her up, saving her in times of need. Of all the money you've lent her just so she could give it to her good for nothing boyfriend, who only spends it on alcohol and drugs, leaving them in debt.
You said it was fine, always had because it gave her a reason to come see you. And each time she did, it would get more frequent, giving you hope. But each visit showed you a progress in which you could not stop her from experiencing. Heavy under the eyes, darkness taking over her once bright eyes, and a body slimming so thin that she was just bones and skin now. It always left you in despair, seeing her like this. Especially because there is nothing you can do. It makes you mad that she has lost that spark she once so proudly had.
You first fell in love with her laugh, you can remember it from your high school days, enriching and silky. Now, it was made cruel, wispy and a whimper of a life gone down the drain. How long had it been since her lips created the shape of laughter? Or the last time she had anything to smile about?
You don't remember falling asleep, but it wasn't very long because the sound of the bathroom door slamming stirs you from your dreamless sleep. Looking up, you find her still in your clothes she originally changed into. Relife sweeps over you as you notice color has returned to her face, the makeup washed off and hair brushed.
She paddles softly to the living room, making no sound as she passes you. Sinking into the couch, she brings a warm fuzzy pale pink blanket you kept just for her round her chilled body. You want to talk, almost find the words to, but there's nothing you can do as she goes down this path.
Forcing your tired muscles to move, you place your cup in the sink next to hers. "Goodnight." you say and head to your room. Closing the door behind you, you peek to see her lay down, curling up. Once the doors all the way closed, you quickly get ready for bed.
The lights turn off, you feel the darkness spread and never have you ever felt so alone, so helpless. The sheets are cold as you stumble in between them, wishing you could share them, but it'll never happen and instead you go to sleep alone. And in the morning, you'll wake up to an empty house with a single letter scribbled sitting on the table.
"Goodnight and goodbye my dear friend."
And like that, she's gone forever.
